Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 169: Drag them into the light

Chapter 169: Drag them into the light

"The stables...on fire! They’re trying to trap us!"

Liora jolted upright. She had barely slept. She grabbed her cloak, the journal, and the ring, stuffing them into a small pack with shaking hands.

Outside her window, an orange glow flickered, and by the time she ran down the hall, smoke was seeping under the doors.

Lucien was already there, with his sword drawn while he was shouting orders.

"Get the guards to the east wing! Edgar, lock the inner gates; if they’re inside already, we contain them!"

He turned to Liora, eyes flashing. "You have the journal?"

She nodded. "And the ring."

He exhaled. "Good. Then stay behind me and don’t stop running unless I fall."

"Don’t say that," she snapped.

He didn’t answer...but he didn’t smile either.

Outside, the night was filled with sparks and panic.

The stables were engulfed. Two guards were down. A third staggered from the flames, screaming something incoherent before collapsing in the mud.

Lucien grabbed Liora’s wrist and pulled her toward the back exit, but even as they reached it, a figure stepped from the shadows, and as the air shifted, Liora knew.

The Shadow Bell had arrived.

She froze.

The masked figure tilted its head slowly, curiously, as if examining them like prey.

Lucien didn’t hesitate.

He moved like a beast unleashed...his blade clashing against the Shadow Bell’s curved dagger, the sound ringing like a bell struck in hell.

The fight was brutal.

Every movement measured, deadly.

Liora watched with her heart in her throat, fists clenched around the satchel. And then she realized....

The Shadow Bell wasn’t trying to kill Lucien.

They were trying to get to her.

A flash of steel darted past Lucien...straight toward her.

Liora stumbled back, but...

Scarlet screamed and lunged from behind.

The blade grazed her arm instead, and blood oozed out.

Liora caught her as she fell.

Lucien roared, not like a prince, but like a man protecting something he hadn’t realized mattered until now.

He slammed the masked assassin into the dirt, disarming them, but when he moved to strike the final blow, the Shadow Bell vanished.

Vanished, like some smoke.

As if they were never really there at all.

Minutes Later

Liora pressed cloth to Scarlet’s wound, her hands slick with blood. "You’ll be okay. It’s shallow."

Scarlet winced. "Still hurts like betrayal."

Lucien stood above them, soaked in sweat and smoke.

"They’ve crossed the line now," he said. "They’re not sending messages anymore. They’re declaring war."

Liora looked up at him, blood on her gown, the satchel still clutched to her chest.

"Then let’s give them one."

He held out his hand.

She took it.

And behind them, the estate burned, but two shadows rode into the dawn with more than vengeance.

They rode with proof and purpose.

The sun hadn’t fully risen when they crossed the estate’s ruined gate.

The world beyond was still wet with ash and silence. Scarlet was left behind in Edgar’s care, her arm bound and her spirit dimmed...but her final words echoed in Liora’s mind:

"Come back with a crown. Or a fire big enough to burn theirs."

Lucien hadn’t spoken in miles.

They rode in cloaks, the satchel bound beneath Liora’s tunic, every hoofbeat hammering against the bones of what they’d left behind.

They set up camp off-road, deep in the woods, far from prying eyes.

Lucien built the fire silently.

Liora finally broke the silence.

"You didn’t kill him."

Lucien didn’t look up. "Who?"

"The Shadow Bell."

He tossed another log into the flames. "You don’t kill ghosts, Liora. You wait for them to make a mistake."

She hugged her knees, silent for a long moment.

Then: "You knew he’d come, didn’t you?"

"I knew the moment I read your father’s name aloud."

She turned toward him. "Do you ever regret it?"

Lucien met her eyes. "Regret what?"

"Not dying with your title. With your sword. When they disgraced you."

He didn’t answer right away.

Then, slowly: "No. I regret not killing the right person before I fell."

Liora stared at the flames. "I used to think my father was just weak. That he couldn’t survive politics. Now I realize... He was just one honest man in a world that eats them alive."

Lucien gave a faint smirk. "And you? Still honest?"

"I don’t know what I am anymore."

He looked at her. Really looked.

Then, for the first time in days, his voice softened.

"You’re still alive."

She swallowed. "Barely."

"That’s all it takes," he said. "The difference between a pawn and a queen is which one keeps moving."

Snow greeted them long before they reached the gates.

The Winter Archives were carved into the cliffs, old and forgotten by most of the capital. But Lucien still had the sigil ring of a Blackthorne prince—and the monks who guarded the vaults remembered.

Inside: ice-lit corridors, ancient tomes, and dust thick as secrets.

They were taken to the sealed records chamber—one only opened by royal command or blood.

Lucien pricked his finger without hesitation and pressed it to the lockstone.

It opened.

Inside, thousands of scrolls.

And at the center: the Royal Ledgers of the Year of Fire the year Liora’s father died.

Lucien pulled one free and opened it slowly.

Names. Trades. Payments.

He paused. "There. That one."

Liora leaned over.

A signature. Forged. Repeated across multiple entries.

And next to it....

Her aunt’s name. Evelyne Miral.

Liora’s mouth went dry.

"She was part of it."

Lucien nodded grimly. "She wasn’t just a bystander. She was the one who collected the falsified payments for the border shipments. She let your father die so she could climb."

Liora’s hands trembled as she traced the ink.

"She sold me off to hide the trail..."

"And now we have the trail back," Lucien said.

He looked at her.

"No more shadows. No more doubt. We drag them into the light."

The torchlight danced across the cold stone walls as Liora reached for another ledger, her fingers brushing the aged leather when a sharp click echoed behind them. The sound was subtle but unmistakable. Lucien immediately stilled, every muscle in his body tensing. His hand drifted toward the hilt of his dagger with practiced ease.

A man stepped into the archive chamber, cloaked in pale grey with a hood pulled low. The way he moved, silent and confident, sent a ripple of tension through the room. He spoke with the ease of someone who’d been waiting a long time to interrupt. "The dead always leave behind footprints, don’t they?"

Lucien didn’t even flinch. "Took you longer than I thought," he said flatly.

Liora blinked, her fingers curling away from the ledger. "Who is that?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

The man chuckled and slowly removed his hood. His face was youthful, almost too young for the hardness in his gaze. Amusement played in his eyes, sharp and unsettling. "You don’t remember me, Lady Liora," he said, tilting his head. "But I knew your father. Intimately."

A wave of nausea rolled through Liora at the implication. Lucien subtly stepped in front of her, his voice now cold and clipped. "Tell me, Rowan. Are you here to finish the job?"

Rowan Vale. A name that struck like a whisper from a haunted past...Lucien’s former comrade who had vanished the day of his downfall.

Rowan didn’t seem offended. "I’m here for balance," he replied simply, turning his attention to the table and the ledger Liora had been studying. "That book is dangerous. But lucky for you... I’m not here for you," he added, glancing at Lucien before locking eyes with Liora again.

"I’m here for her."

Lucien reacted instantly, his dagger drawn in one fluid motion. "Try it," he warned, voice low and lethal. "I’ll carve you into the floor."

But Rowan didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached inside his cloak and retrieved a scroll, holding it up carefully. "It’s not a weapon," he said calmly. "Not yet, anyway. But it’s another ledger. Not of payments....of names."

Lucien didn’t lower the blade. Every muscle in his arm was tight with readiness.

"This scroll," Rowan continued, "contains the names of everyone involved in the betrayal that killed her father. Not just Evelyne. Not just the court. Even the guards who let the fire consume the palace that night."

Liora stared at him, breath caught somewhere between rage and disbelief. "Why would you have that?"

Rowan’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Because I’m not the villain of your story," he said softly. "Just a man who’s tired of cleaning up after the royal family."

Lucien let out a dark laugh, bitter and unimpressed. "You mean hiding their messes."

Rowan’s eyes flicked to Lucien. "Be careful, old friend. You’ve already been cast aside once. The next fall might be permanent."

He extended the scroll toward Liora.

"Take it. Or don’t. But if you want the full truth... this is the price."

Lucien didn’t miss a beat. "What’s the price, Rowan?"

Rowan’s smile widened, knowing exactly what he was doing. "She comes with me. One night. One meeting. No harm. Just truth."

Lucien was already shaking his head. "No."

But Rowan didn’t even acknowledge him now. His eyes were fixed on Liora, daring her. "Truth or comfort, my lady? You don’t get both."